


Here We Lay With Our Memories... Or Not

by runningout_oftime



Category: Club Penguin
Genre: Amnesia, Drabble, Emotionally Repressed, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26493535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningout_oftime/pseuds/runningout_oftime
Summary: Tic the Ace drops by to deliver some things for Gary. They have a short conversation about how things are now... about the past.
Kudos: 14





	Here We Lay With Our Memories... Or Not

**Author's Note:**

> Some short and vague backstory about my Ace OC "Tic", who features heavily in Weenierufus' Aceverse AU in... unexpected ways.

The mechanical whirring of the metal doors to Gary’s lab echoed in the hallway hollowly as they opened, allowing access to the room inside. Hesitantly, an agent stepped in, careful not to startle Gary who seemed not to notice their entrance as he sat faced away from the door, diligently working on his latest invention. The agent in question, now standing a tad awkwardly in the entrance of the lab with an armful of various gadgets and gizmos, loudly cleared their throat in order to get the man’s attention. As expected, and hoped for, he perked up and turned away from his invention to see who had entered.

“Ah, Agent Tic! How lovely to see you! What brings you here?” He chirped, adjusting the way his large glasses sat on his face in order to get a better look at them.

Tic, as named, shifted a bit uncomfortably, and held out the items to him expectantly, “I, uh… got the stuff you requested,” they started, pursing their lips together for a moment before continuing with a glance around the room, “where… would you like me to put them?”

Gary looked down to the items in their arms, and then back to their face with an expression of mild confusion for a moment before something seemed to click, and he sat up straight with a short _Oh!_ noise. “Ah, yes! I had nearly forgotten! Er…” He, as well, glanced around the room for a suitable place, taking a moment to inspect his surroundings. Nearly every surface – every table and counter and shelf – was full to the brim with inventions, most of which were left in varying degrees of “almost finished” to “barely started”, and almost all of which covered in dust; like they had been worked on for a while, before simply being forgotten about and never touched again. Nuts and bolts were scattered all over the place and across the floor, as well as unfinished blueprints covered in coffee stains and smudged ink, making getting around almost as trepidatious as walking across a 5 year old’s bedroom after a play session with Legos.

Finally, though, after a long moment of searching the room for any kind of clearing, he spotted a somewhat clear spot on a table right in the middle of the room, “There, that will do just fine!” He said, pointing to it, “Right in the middle of my vision so that maybe hopefully I won’t… well, you know.” As the words leave his mouth they are coated in an odd mixture of humor and sadness, and he raises a hand to gently knock on his own head as one would a door with a soft smile.

Tic, in response, gives him a half hearted smile as well, before it quickly fades, “Heh… right…” they laugh a bit hollowly, clearly finding nothing funny in this display, “So, uh… what were you planning to do with these things anyways?” They ask, moving to deposit the things onto the table with a series of clangs and clunks as the metal pieces bounced off of one another until they finally settled.

“Oh, well I intend to use them to help build this latest invention I’m working on, of course!” He gestures to the machine behind him that he was just working on before Tic arrived, “I won’t bore you with the details, but I’m… hoping it will maybe aid you in your attempts to take down that awful dragon plaguing our island. Of course, not to say that you’re not capable of doing just as well on your own, but… well… you know we’d all like to see you come back from these encounters with… less injuries.”

Ashamed and frustrated, Tic glances away, “I appreciate it.” Is all they say, but it’s obvious that the implication that they might need help strikes a bit of a nerve, and their fists ball up at their sides alongside their jaw clenching almost painfully. Insecurities are the last thing Tic likes to show… especially around people they care about, but the thought of failing, again, flashes in their mind at even the mention of needing assistance. It hurts. _It hurts._ Gary frowns.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Agent Tic. You’re doing the best you can. Everyone knows it. It’s not easy to take down something like that – “

“But I _could_ be doing _better._ ” Tic hisses, a malice dripping from their tone that startles even Gary. Anger and shame bubbles in their stomach, warming up their body as thoughts suddenly race in their head, threatening to spill out of their mouth in a string of self-deprecation, until suddenly… nothing. Almost as if someone flipped a switch in their head, or pressed a reset button. The warmth subsides.

They blink a few times, before chewing on their bottom lip, using the pain to bring themselves back to the present, “I’m… sorry. The subject gets me… tense, is all.” They say softly, bringing their hands up to twiddle their fingers together idly. The motion seems to calm them.

“It’s quite alright,” comes the response, “I know how much this must frustrate you.” Gary then pauses for a moment, thinking about something to himself as he raises a hand to scratch at his head, “How is that coming along anyways? The retrieval of those parts, that is. I know I didn’t send you after the _easiest_ things in the world to find, but if you have anything now I’d love to get my hands on it while waiting for the others.” He shoots a smile at Tic cluelessly, who responds with a straight face and surprisingly little confusion.

“I’ve gathered them all, Gary.” They say softly, and without hesitation. It almost hurts less to have to repeat themselves when they see the way Gary’s face seems to light up at this – seemingly new – information. It still hurts, though, and a new feeling brews in their stomach. This time, it’s cold.

“Oh, wonderful!” He claps his hands together, “And, where are they?”

Tic gestures to the table in the middle of the room, speaking calmly, “They’re right here, Gary. You must not have noticed me set them down.”

Gary seems surprised, before glancing down at the table again and… suddenly seeming a bit sheepish. Though the lie was spoken as casually as any other statement, and with an inflection perfectly attuned to the truth, Gary still catches it. His fingers move to rub against his thumb anxiously, gently digging his nails into the palm of his hand. “Ah… I see.” He is silent for a moment, “I… forgot again, didn’t I?”

The air in the room turns tense, and eerie, and Tic wonders in the back of their mind if the temperature in the room has dropped, or if the hair on their arms is standing on end for different reasons. “Yes… but it’s okay, though.” They say a bit casually. They’ve learned to mind less the repeating. What bothers them more is…

“You know you don’t have to lie to me, Agent.” Gary breathes, quietly, and with a small and sad smile, “I know I’m broken. You can just tell me.”

“That’s not true.” Tic almost cuts him off with the speed at which they respond, frowning, “You’re… you’re not broken, you just… it’s not bad, okay? I don’t mind repeating myself… and it’s not your fault, either, it’s… it’s mine.”

“Ace…”

“Let me speak!” Tic snaps back with an anger that is clearly directed inwards, but it does have the desired effect of silencing Gary, who stares at them quietly, listening. “If I had just… if I was just a little _faster_ then you wouldn’t be… like this. You’d be fine! Not that you’re not fine now, you’re still… you’re still _really great,_ but… the ice… if you weren’t in there so long, it might’ve… been different… maybe you would remember, maybe the island wouldn’t be… frozen…” Their hands move rapidly, in a sort of panicked motion, pushing and pulling at their own fingers, and they try to focus on the feeling of rough, calloused skin cutting at itself to distract from the feeling of their emotions trying to tear themselves apart. With no other outlet, the shame of the past seems to seep out physically in their movement, and they twitch and fidget awkwardly with every word, and pause, and stutter, and backtrack. It’s obvious that they’re out of practice and out of touch with the act of being honest – with themselves, and with someone else. “I… I’m _sorry,_ Gary, I… I never should have let this happen…”

“Let what happen…?”

The shock of that sentence seems to slap the emotion right out of Tic, and just as easily as they had let their feelings spill out, they bottle them back up again and lock them down in a tiny, padlocked box, and shove it to the very darkest corners of their mind. “Nothing, G. It’s not important.” Their voice is calm, and steadied. A stark contrast to how they were less than 2 seconds prior. Their hands fall still, and back to their sides, and they glance up to look at Gary’s face again, shadow from the brim of their hat casting over their face and hiding any emotions that their eyes might betray.

“I’m… sorry, I seem to have lost track of what we were just talking about…” Gary scratches at his head again in confusion, as has become a common motion with the man. Tic shakes their head.

“It wasn’t important. Don’t worry. The parts you requested are on the table.” They gesture to the table once more, earning themselves another excited exclamation from Gary, and words of praise and gratitude. All they can do in response is nod, “Any time, G. I’m going to go back to patrolling.”

“Oh… okay!” Gary smiles and nods, “Good thinking, Ace! You never know when that nasty Tolva is going to show up, after all!” He gives them a little wave, “Stay warm out there!”

“Will do.”

And without another word, Tic turns on foot and leaves out of the same door they entered, mechanical whirring bouncing hollowly off the empty halls once more, before sealing themselves – and Tic’s secrets – with the mind of an amnesiac.


End file.
